In the Frosty Air
by potterstagswag
Summary: "I suppose you're right… I do not have many experiences with 'Christmas-like' activities…" she mused, setting her bags down. She took a step towards her, "But there is one thing I am quite familiar with." Nyssara playing in the snow. Oneshot.


"What do you mean you've never heard of _Jingle Bell Rock_?"

To Nyssa's defense, Sara probably should've known that the League of Assassins didn't really do 'holiday breaks'. They were trudging through some Minnesotan blizzard, toting back a bunch of goodies (she called them that. Nyssa rolled her eyes.) to their current safehouse, when the subject was brought up. Apparently, the Heir to the Demon had never had a real Christmas tree. Which, okay, was _somewhat_excusable but only because Sara knew firsthand how difficult it was to find pine trees on top of a Tibetan mountain range. The same went for when she found out that Nyssa's never even celebrated Christmas before (Sara was 89% sure that the al Ghuls were probably atheist or agnostic or brainwashed to believe that her _father_ was a god anyways).

But she absolutely drew the last straw on her girlfriend never having heard even one rendition of the most played, most irritating tune in the universe. Not even secret societies for assassins hidden in Tibetan mountain ranges could escape that.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Nyssa frowned, giving her one of those 'we don't have time for this, but I'm going to humor you because I think you're being cute' looks.

"It's an experience!" Sara insisted, going as far as pouting because she knew that they didn't have time for this but needed to be humored and therefore had to push at being cute.

The other woman only snorted though, continuing on her way. The last time they'd checked their watches, there had been a six hour window until their next hit. As quiet as the little town was, one of its pastors was evidently responsible for the biggest drug operation in the tri-state area. His dealers were scheduled to put a bag of Velocity 9 under the baby Jesus that night.

Anyways, she knew that that meant that they only had two hours to do whatever they wanted before having to stake out. And they'd _planned_ on spending that time cuddling on the couch with mugs of hot chocolate (thankfully, Nyssa wasn't foreign to that), but this just wouldn't stop riding on Sara's conscience.

Dropping her bags, she stopped walking. "We have to go back to the grocery store."

"What?" Nyssa glanced over her shoulder, now donning her 'why do I even bother with you' face, "Are you joking? Sara, come on. It's freezing — we can find the song on the radio later."

"No! We have to hear it in the _store_; it's the only way you can fully understand!"

"To be honest, I'm not really understanding anything about you right now."

She'd meant it as a tease, but it only pushed Sara's pout further. She watched with narrowed eyes as Nyssa chuckled and turned once more, an urge compelling her hands to move. Before she knew it, she had a perfectly constructed snowball in her hand, and it was sailing through the air with the precision and accuracy that she spent years training to achieve.

It collided against Nyssa's head, eliciting a sharp gasp and sharper snap back to her. And if it were scientifically possible, Sara knew that her glare alone could've thawed every icicle in a five-mile radius. She also knew that it wasn't necessarily the greatest idea to get an internationally infamous assassin riled up this close before a mission.

But she just couldn't help it. Rare was the occasion when she ever got to see Nyssa disheveled — and right now, with her beanie tipped sideways and windblown hair and rosy cheeks that totally marred her scowl, she couldn't help but giggle.

Which turned into a full-on laugh. Which left Nyssa to once again regard her as if a crazy person, eventually causing the irritation on her face to give way to incredulity. Which then, for some reason, melted into her feline-like smirk.

It was the smirk that made Sara hesitate.

"I suppose you're right… I do not have many experiences with 'Christmas-like' activities…" she mused, setting her bags down. She took a step towards her, "But there _is _one thing I am quite familiar with."

Nyssa was grinning now. She waited a moment, long enough for Sara to register what was going on, and then pounced as soon as she was about to tell her to fuck right off.

But that never made it out of her mouth, not when she felt strong arms wrapping around her waist. And she only managed to let out a shriek before she was on the ground, before snow was being shoveled atop her torso, before all she could feel was cold and numb and Nyssa's laugh right on her ear.

God, she hated this woman.

They stayed like that for a couple minutes, a fumbling mess of tangled limbs and colorful expletives. And it was ridiculous, ridiculous that she could even feel like this. Like they could even _be_ like this.

As if their only battle today was wrestling to be on top. As if their only mission was to see how many handfuls of snow they could shove up the other's sweater. As if they were nothing but two people who couldn't seem to get enough of the sensation of their breaths brushing that close to each other's necks.

"Okay, okay!" Sara eventually squealed, uselessly kicking her legs, "You win!"

She assumed Nyssa tried to respond, but she interrupted her with a quick press of their lips. Because she just had to. Because her dark hair was cascading over them, and her eyes were crinkling at the corners, and she just felt like it. She would've been perfectly content in just staying there a while longer, to continue watching the little puffs of air fogging between their mouths, but that was when she heard a familiar tinkling. Quickly shushing her, Sara went still until some beat up junker passed them on the nearby road.

_Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock_… played briefly through the thin windows, before returning to the silence and their heavy breathing once more.

Nyssa was gazing down at her with another one of her small smiles. "… Come on," she sighed, plopping a quick kiss on her nose and pushing herself off her, "We've only got an hour or so now if you still want to make your wreathes. I was actually excited about that."

God, she loved this woman.


End file.
